


Regret

by nocatsallowed



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2020-05-28 16:03:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19397545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nocatsallowed/pseuds/nocatsallowed
Summary: As Will lay on Hannibal's kitchen floor, blood seeping out of him, he realised that he had made a huge mistake. He should have left with Hannibal.Will is lost in a life after Hannibal. But he won't let him get away a second time.





	1. Chapter 1

The human-suit Hannibal wore was so close to perfect. Tailored so no-one ever saw more than Hannibal wanted them to -- no-one except Will. Even then it was only glimpses, something dark and indistinct moving beneath the seams.

Maybe Will hadn't wanted to look closer. He'd finally found a friend.

Will's rational mind tried to show him the illusion, demonstrate with a flourish how the trick of their friendship was done. He'd been a child in the face of it; he wanted to believe in the magic, wanted _that_ Hannibal to be real.

He'd pulled at the loose thread in Hannibal's disguise anyway.

Now Hannibal's soul was bared to Will, permission, finally, for Will to see him -- know him -- and Will felt Hannibal's emotions throb in his own gut as sharply as the knife. The hope of Will as Hannibal's perfect companion, hunting partner, equal. The betrayal of Will's rejection. The violence -- not hot, not petty revenge. More like divine wrath. Looking down at himself though Hannibal's eyes, it felt inevitable. It felt clean. Maybe Will had a human-suit of his own.

As Will lay on the floor surrounded by his own blood, and Abigail's blood, and the music of Hannibal's violence, he wished he had left when Hannibal asked him to. Because it wasn't the gaping wound or the blood loss that hurt the worst, after the fact. It was the look on Hannibal's face. Even as Will still gasped for air, Hannibal had already let go of the only person that truly understood him. A central figure in his memory palace. It was easy for him to turn and walk away. 

Will had lost everything he cared about in a few decisive moments. Incurred this violence, lost his only chance at having a family -- for what? Loyalty to the FBI? To Jack Crawford? A man so obsessed with the Chesapeake Ripper that Will became just a tool to use and neglect, where Hannibal had always valued Will's unique mind for itself.

Hannibal was ethereal - silver and black in the moonlight that shone through the window.

Will could read everything that was about to happen in the angles of Hannibal's face. He would walk out of the door, leaving everything behind, and it would be as easy as shrugging off an old suit. A remorseless god walking away from the chaos he caused. Odin, master manipulator, creating turmoil for his own entertainment and curiosity. 

Will couldn't help but be awed. In a thrall of blood-loss his empathy echoed in his skull until he couldn't tell which thoughts were his own. It seemed an honour to be in Hannibal's presence. He was strangled by pride at bearing the mark Hannibal bestowed upon him, a sacrifice bleeding on his altar. 

Carnage suited Hannibal better than any three-piece suit. He was beautiful as he turned away.

Will longed for Hannibal to look back at him. Regretted the hurt he caused -- for Hannibal to have been lured into a trap when he tried to give Will everything. At the time, Will couldn't appreciate Hannibal's gift. Being with Hannibal gave him a sense of belonging that he had never experienced in his life, not even as a child when he went fishing with his Dad. Dad -- what would he say if he saw Will now? Bleeding out on the floor, choking on regret, alone. 

Will had dedicated his adult life to capturing killers like Hannibal -- except Hannibal wasn't like them. He was in a class of his own. He saw the potential for beauty where no one else could, transforming and elevating the whole mundane world.

If only Will could have seen the potential that existed all this time - for he, and Abigail, and Hannibal to be a family. Yes, if could turn back time he would run away with Hannibal. But he'd made his choice. He hadn't had the courage. 

He watched Hannibal walk away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter hasn’t been beta read so I’m very sorry for any egregious spelling and grammatical errors made. Also I wrote this chapter months ago but was too scared to upload it so please be nice.

Will woke up expecting to still be bleeding all over the expensive tiles on Hannibal's kitchen floor. Instead he was greeted offensive smell of sanitiser. He squinted his eyes unused to the lights in the hospital room. His throat was extremely dry he coughed and he lungs started to hurt.he reached the water that was in front of him, as he did this a nurse in his room lifted the cup to his mouth and manoeuvred the straw so he could reach it.

As soon as he finished drinking, he lay back down. He was too weak to sit up for longer than he already did.

He couldn't help but think about the time in Hannibal's kitchen, when the older man held Will's head in his hand plunging the knife into Will's stomach. Hannibal's gentle touch was almost like a promise of what their life could've been, if he had left with Hannibal.The intimacy of it hurt more than the knife. Will reached for the wound almost smiling fondly.

The nurse proceeded to explain his injuries and that he had been in the hospital for a week already.

He tried to ask about Abigail but the doctor avoided answering questions about her, citing that he couldn't release patient information to someone who wasn't a family member. The nurse was right of course Abigail wasn't his blood, he didn't raise her and had only met her over a year ago; but she was the closest thing he had ever had to a child. How could he explain that she became his daughter the day he killed Garett Jacob Hobbs?

Will could still feel her blood seeping out onto his hands, he could still hear her panicked gasps. He wondered whether that fact that it wasn't the first time that it happend made it easier for her to accept. Was the sting of the blade dulled by the betrayal she felt--or if it made it feel much worse knowing that someone who had cared for her would use her life as a tool to punish Will?

When Will saw Abigail in Hannibal's kitchen, he thought she was a hallucination-- that his encephalitis had come back. She was his guilt personified. He wondered whether she felt the same betrayal she did when her father cut her throat. Did she willingly accept her fate?

When Will woke up again the blinds in his hospital room were closed so he didn't know what time it was, but he could tell it was night moonlight streamed through the gaps in the hospital blinds. It had been like that for the past few days, Will would wake up long enough to talk to the doctors or for him to eat meals, during which he wish Hannibal was there to make him chicken soup again. 

After his meals Will would fall asleep again and then wake up in the middle of the night. But these days had been dreamlike. He was unable tell if this was reality, he had hoped it was a terrible dream. He longed for the time when Hannibal was his friend-his only friend and Hannibal wasn't the Ripper. The only thing that made what happend reality was the pain in his stomach. The wound served as a reminder.Hannibal didn't want Will to forget him,as if he ever could.

Will awoke again to see a figure sat in the plastic hospital chair; it was too dark to see properly but he could discern that it was a male. For a moment-- just a moment--he thought it could be Hannibal; he knew it was impossible but that didn't stop him from hoping it was.

Instead, he saw his father, Will senior sitting in the hard hospital chair, he winced internally at the thought of damaging it would be to his father's back. Will senior's eyes were closed and his chin was resting on his chest. Will took the opportunity to analyse his father's face; he had a lot more wrinkles than he did last time he left Louisiana for good. Calluses on his hands that could be attributed to decades of labouring, not uncommon of blue collar men.

Seeing his father like this made Will feel guilty because his father looked so old, and for the first time he looked mortal. When he was young, Will never thought his Dad would die. How could he? Will senior was so strong, steadfast and enduring. Nothing seemed to affect him. When Will was ten his father had almost cut off his finger doing an odd job to ea4n extra money. Like any child Will was completely hysterical, it seemed like he had been injured, but his Dad didn't even flinch or seem to be in pain. And when he returned from the hospital after getting stitches he went back to fixing boat motors.

Will learnt a lot from his Dad growing up on boaryards: how to fix boat motors, how to fish and where to find the best bargains but most importantly, he taught Will how to build forts. And a penchant for plaid.

"Hi Will, I guess you're suprised to see me."

"Yes its definitely a suprise.Next the nurses will tell me my mother is outside the door." Will's voice held more bitterness than he intended and he winced. He and his Dad never talked about her. She was a sore subject for them both.

He apologised weakly."Seeing you is a good suprise." Will was not especially close to his dad but his presence was comforting. He had always done his best to raise Will.

Will's mother left because she knew he was wrong and it frightened her.

As if he was sensed Will's disparaging thoughts, his father said;"She didn't deserve to be in your life. She left left because she resented the fact that we lived in a houseboat. Can't blame her she was used to living in a big plantation house, which she never let me forget." Will was suprised about how forthcoming his dad was being, growing up his dad completely avoided talking about his mother.

" We were lucky a lot of those around us didn't have anywhere to live. You always made sure that we always had food to eat." Although he was saying that to comfort his dad, Will found that he meant every word.

"I can't understand how she could have held you in her arms and still leave. When I looked at you and saw your big blue eyes, I couldn't believe I helped create something so tiny and precious."

"Your the only good thing in my life." Will senior said with more emotion than he seen his Dad express.

" I don't know why there's nothing for me to be proud of."

"Will I'm proud of fact that you have your own home instead of having to move from shipyard to shipyard in order to earn below minimum wage. You have a career, not just a job you have to work to make money"

" Look where I ended up! In a hospital room with no visitors and no friends. Constant nightmares, homicidal thoughts unable to tell if the thoughts you had were your own. I wish I'd stayed in Louisiana fixing boat motors with you." Will said tears forming in his eyes.

" Will, listen to me you were always way too good to be stuck fixing boat motors surrounded by intolerant judgnentmental bastards". Will senior reached out to hold Will's hand. Will had to force himself not to pull his hand away. This type of affection coming from his dad felt strange to him. It was overwhelming.

"What happened Will you used to love working homicides back in Lousiana?" The sorrow evident in Will senior' s face was the type that only a parent express when the felt as if they had failed the child. It almost broke Will's heart.

"I got too close." Will tried to ignore the lump that formed in his throat. The man who stabbed me he... he is -- was my friend.

  
"Who needs enemies eh?" Will senior chuckled saying trying to lighten the mood.

"I guess."

Will senior cleared his throat changing the subject in an attenpt to cheer Will up. " So what've you been up to? Do you have a girlfriend?

"No."

"... A boyfriend?"

"Huh what no!" His response seemed way too defensive.

"It's ok son, I ain't judging." His father replied chuckling.

Will just smiled in response. He thought of how easy it would be to pack up his belongings, he didn't have many, and go back to Lousiana with his dad. He knew happy it would make his dad, but he couldn't do it he had to find Hannibal. His dad would understand if he explained the sense of belonging, the sense of normalcy that came with being in Hannibal's arms.


End file.
